


shelter as we go

by starkspangledbanner14



Category: The Maze Runner (2014), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Schmoop, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hugs, I Don't Even Know, M/M, Teen Angst, thominho - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:38:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkspangledbanner14/pseuds/starkspangledbanner14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He never saw Minho like this before, and it scared him.</p><p>OR</p><p>The time Minho broke down but Thomas was there for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	shelter as we go

**Author's Note:**

> So basically, I've fallen in love with The Maze Runner after watching the movie and reading the books and I really loved the idea of sad!Minho and comforting!Thomas so I tried to find some fics for that but I couldn't. So I wrote one. 
> 
> Oh, this fic is set in the movieverse of TMR where the Map Room was in the forest and also, in this fic, it was a few weeks after Thomas got sent up into the maze and he wasn't special or anything, just another Glader.
> 
> Comments are very very appreciated and also much welcomed. 
> 
> Just to let you guys know, this is my first ever fic for AO3 and also for Maze Runner. 
> 
> Without further ado, please enjoy.

Thomas looked up from his barely-eaten bacon casserole just in time to notice a familiar figure disappear into the darkness beyond the forest.

Having decided to abandon the day’s dinner - it wasn’t that tasty anymore, not after what he accidentally witnessed, one of the slicers hacking at the poor pig’s throat mercilessly, blood spilling everywhere - Thomas got up to his feet wearily.

He took a quick glance around his surroundings, satisfied that no one paid him any attention, and trudged along the path that the Keeper of the Runners took into the forest minutes before, darkness and croaks of insects surrounding him instantaneously, the sounds of Gladers chatting and cheering fading into the background.

Thomas waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and squinted, trying to seek out Minho’s familiar outline, as he walked silently towards the direction of the Map Room. He did not expect Minho to go back to work right away after dinner, not after the outburst of frustration from the latter when they were cooped up in the small room with four other Runners, trying to figure out the patterns of the maze for three whole hours after the doors closed and failing miserably at it.

The tall Asian snapped at (for a second Thomas thought Minho was going to tear his head off) a Runner whose name Thomas did not know after the poor shank commented somewhat stupidly at Minho’s suggestion. Fuming and red-faced, Minho had burst out of the Map Room to stomp angrily to shuck knows where, the wooden door of the Map Room colliding hard against the inner wall with a loud smack, causing everyone to flinch except Thomas. Deciding that the meeting would not be heading anywhere (had not for the last three hours anyways), Thomas wrapped it up and ordered the other Runners to rest and have dinner and went to do the same as well, thinking that Minho needed some time alone to calm down.

Now, as he stood outside the Map Room, the door slightly askew, probably mildly damaged from the abuse it received earlier, he could make out a dark shadow sitting on the floor, back leaning against the wall. Thomas opened the door and trudged slowly into the room and as an afterthought, pulled it shut.

The light poles outside faintly illuminated the Map Room, the light seeping in through the gaps between the long branches tied together to make a makeshift wall, the fire casting a ghostly orange glow over everything inside, the model of the maze looking more creepy and mysterious than it did during the day. The light hanging off of the ceiling was not switched on.

Thomas finally saw Minho huddled in a not-really-corner; legs stretched partially with knees pointing upwards, buff arms resting on top of his knees, and head tipped back against the wall with an unexplainable expression on his face.

Minho looked _terrible_.

Thomas did not notice before but he certainly did now.

He never saw Minho like this before, and it scared him. Minho with his eyes sunken, eye bags dark and heavy, a huge contrast to his pale yellow skin, shoulders slumped, looking defeated. It scared Thomas. No. It _terrified_ Thomas. Minho never looked defeated. He was always the one who was standing strong, never losing hope. Minho was always brave, witty and sarcastic, even when he was scared. He never showed any weakness, certainly not in front of the Gladers. To see him in such a state, silent, worn out and staring blankly into space, it unsettled something inside Thomas.

He cautiously approached Minho, afraid that he would startle the latter. “Minho?”

Minho did not react. Thomas wasn’t even sure that Minho had heard him.

“Hey, Minho.” Thomas tried again.

“Kinda unsettling huh greenie, seeing me in this state?” Minho muttered with a pathetic attempt of a laugh, all the while never looking at Thomas.

Thomas did not know what to say, so he sat down slowly next to Minho, mimicking the elder’s position.

After a few minutes of sitting down, Thomas broke the silence.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked quietly, almost whispering, concern evident.

Minho finally turned to look at him, eyes dark. “Why do you care, shuckface?”

“Wha- of course I care, ya shank, we’re friends.”

“Friends huh, greenie? You sure ‘bout that?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Stop trying to change the topic. What happened?”

Minho was silent for a moment. His reply came in barely a whisper: “I don’t know.”

“Does it have anything to do with just now?”

“Yeah, no…I don’t know.” Minho sighed wearily.

Thomas turned his head and took in Minho’s appearance. He looked like he got stomped by a Griever thrice then got thrown over the cliff for good measure. He looked dead tired. Thomas did not know how Minho did it, but he managed to look shucking good at the same time. The eerie glow of the fire outside casted moving shadows over Minho’s face, hitting all the sharp angles of his face in an almost perfect way. _God…he wanted Minho so much._ If it weren’t for the klunk condition Minho was in right now, Thomas would’ve devoured that masterpiece of a face lovingly, peppered it with kisses and more. Something stirred in his pants. _Not now, Thomas. He needs you._

Thomas must’ve had a weird look on his face, because Minho was looking questioningly at him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing.” Thomas quickly rearranged his expression. “You wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Cut the klunk, Minho. Talk to me. Please.”

Now Minho was looking at him weirdly. It only lasted for a second before Minho looked away, but Thomas swore that he saw something flash across Minho’s eyes. Was it…could it possibly…no. But…was that _love_ and _fondness_ he just saw? _Shuck it, don’t get your hopes up Thomas, don’t._

“It’s just…everything. The shucking maze, the Gladers, the Runners, this whole thing. It’s just hard, being the Keeper of the Runners.”

Thomas never thought about it before, but sudden realization dawned on him like a punch to the gut. He didn’t know how he managed to overlook it, but being a Runner is already some tough klunk, what with all the responsibilities of running the maze every single day, making sure to get back before the doors closed, searching out patterns and solutions, making sure that hope wasn’t lost among the Gladers, not to mention being the shucking Keeper of the Runners. Shuck, Minho must’ve been going through some tough klunk these three years.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Thomas looked at Minho. _You can always tell me everything_.

“I know ya slinthead. It’s just…I’m tired.” Minho rubbed wearily at his face; shifting his position to cross his legs, back still leaning against the wall.

Thomas nodded, silently asking Minho to continue.

“I feel so shucking tired. Tired and guilty. Because it’s my job, ya know, to find a way out of this shucking klunk of a place we got trapped in. It’s my job, and I can’t do it properly. I can’t find a way to escape this place. I keep letting people down. Newt, Alby, Chuck, all of them. They depend on me so much to get them out of here, but I can’t.” Minho’s voice cracked at the last syllable, and if Thomas noticed the sniffles, he ignored them.

Thomas placed a comforting hand on Minho’s knee. “Hey, it’s not your fault, ya big shank. You did your best too. I don’t know if anyone else noticed, but I did, okay? I saw how hard you worked to figure out this puzzle, how hard you ran out there in the maze, how you risked your life every single day so that those people out there can go home, so that I can go home. It’s never been your fault, Minho. If anyone were to be blamed, it would be the Creators. No one else’s fault except the Creators.”

Minho turned his head and looked at Thomas, his eyes dark and shiny from the tears. He didn’t say anything. They stared at each other for what Thomas thought was an eternity, but in reality just a few minutes.

“It’s not your fault Minho.” Thomas said with all his heart and his soul.

He could see it now. He could see it in Minho’s tear-filled eyes. Minho believed him. He could see more than belief actually. There were thousands of emotions swimming in Minho’s eyes, but the ones that stood out were belief and love. _Love_. _Minho loved him_.

Suddenly, Minho’s lips were crashed against his, Minho’s huge arms wrapped around his waist, and he was sitting on Minho’s folded legs, hands in Minho's hair, gripping it tightly. The kiss was rough, teeth clashing, noses squished, they were desperate and wanting. After that, the kiss slowed down, still passionate, but slow and somehow deeper.

The whole world faded away. Nothing mattered anymore, not the maze, not their responsibilities, nothing except for _Minho’s lips_ and _Minho_. Thomas’s whole body felt like it was on fire. They kissed for eternity.

Thomas could feel something wet on his cheek, and he realized that Minho was still crying. He broke the kiss unwillingly and cradled Minho’s beautiful face in his hands, thumbs rubbing away the tears. _God, he wanted to do that for so long_.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to do that to you.” Minho whispered breathlessly.

“Yeah, me too.”

Minho let out a laugh, this time genuine. He smiled at Thomas, all small and private. It hit Thomas like a freight train, right in his gut. Something warm grew in him.

Thomas kissed Minho. First, on both his eyelids, then his nose, then both cheeks and went up to pepper a light one on his forehead. Two extra ones on those eyebrows, those perfect eyebrows. One on his chin. Finally, he went up to those lips, made from magic. He kissed Minho, lips barely touching Minho’s. Minho’s breath hitched. “I love you.” He whispered, lips just slightly touching Minho’s. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Thomas.” Thomas rarely heard Minho call him by his name. It stirred something in him, something deep and powerful. It was always shank, greenie, or shuckface, and the occasional Tommy, but rarely Thomas. Thank God though. If Minho did it all the time, Thomas would be shucked. He loved Minho’s voice calling out his name. Loved it to no end.

“Can you get off now, ya shank? You’re not a lightweight and I’m pretty sure I still want my legs.”

Thomas blushed and got off slowly, legs slightly numb. He sat down next to Minho, this time shoulders to knees touching Minho’s. Minho reached for his hand and entwined their fingers.

“We waited for shucking weeks to say we loved each other when we could’ve spent all that time doing this.” Minho muttered with a fond smile.

“Yeah.” Thomas chuckled lowly.

They stayed that way for a long time. Shoulders to knees pressed up against each other, hands entwined tightly, sitting in the dark with only the fire outside to provide a tiny amount of light. Thomas wouldn’t want it to be in any other way. This moment is perfect.

“Hey.” Thomas started.

“Yeah?” Minho looked at him. _God, how much further can he go with looking so breathtaking?_

“It’s not your fault. I’m here for you now, so it’s our responsibility. We’ll get these slintheads out someday.” Thomas looked into Minho’s amazing eyes. Even with the poor lighting, he could still tell that Minho had some pretty amazing eyes.

Minho kissed him. “Yeah, we will.”

**Author's Note:**

> So that was it. Hoped you guys liked it. Thank you for reading! Please leave me some comments to let me know if you did liked it! Thanks again!


End file.
